


who keeps your flame

by buckyjerkbarnes



Series: thanos shoulda took me instead (iw fics) [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (Almost) Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, (and tony righting his wrongs), (served in the form of nebula ending thanos), Avengers 4 speculation, DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN INFINITY WAR, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, Healing, I WAS NOT PREPARED, Kisses, M/M, Recovery, SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS, WHICH IS WHAT WE DESERVE, because it's what we deserve, carol danvers helps save the day, here there be justice, infinity war really came into my local theater and scalped me, stucky is the core of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 05:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14465922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckyjerkbarnes/pseuds/buckyjerkbarnes
Summary: One by one, figures of lost friends rose from the earth and gasped life back into their lungs.Because Bucky was the first to fall away, he was the last to materialize.[Or: Some Avengers 4 speculation rounded out by overly tactile Steve/Bucky and the primary thought that, together, things might just work out for once.]





	who keeps your flame

**Author's Note:**

> So yesterday I wrote a fic about the events at the end of Infinity War. This morning, I woke up after getting about five hours sleep and wrote what I hope will come to pass in Avengers 4 given what we know/have speculated about from the few set photos released. Hope this soothes after the curb-stomping Marvel gave our hearts! Enjoy!

It takes Thor opening up the bifrost with his new weapon and taking them to Titan, as this was where Rocket claimed his team would be. It took finding Tony crouching and rocking himself among the rubble of a massive, bloody-skied planet with the absence of the spider kid at his flank like a tangible weight, for them to make amends. They returned to Earth where Nat called around for any stragglers. There was no response from Hill or Fury, though Scott came when they called— his daughter had escaped the rationing of the universe, but Clint did not fare so well. He came out of retirement, more severe-faced than Steve had ever seen him, but Steve doesn’t expect anything less, not when Clint had watched Laura and his children fade before him. That might be one of the worst things: Clint had gotten out to the best of his ability and the fight still made its way to his front door.

It takes a midnight call from a woman they’ve never met before, one Carol Danvers, for them to jump start the plan to set things right. While modern science might have gave Steve the body he has today and he doesn’t have that much trouble understanding most advanced concepts, when words like _quantum realm_ start to get thrown around, he’s more than a little bemused. It takes harnessing the technology of Scott’s Ant-Man suit and diving headfirst into this largely unknown space with no thought to themselves— only of those they’d lost.

According to Ms. Danvers, the laws of physics in the quantum realm as they are known to most are not established— time is like a clock missing one too many gears and the fabric of space is not yet woven into the blanket of stars and planets that they are familiar with. These are elements that are unpredictable, unstable in spades, but malleable. They use these broken, new things to their advantage. It takes going back to the Avenger’s first fight in Manhattan, using their knowledge of what has already come to pass and acting carefully, stiffly moving their cosmic chess pieces that could make or break the world in the hopes they were utilizing all the right moves.

Thor managed to get to Loki, convince his brother to look into his mind at what is to come, and they change the tides. Ms. Danvers— _we’re saving the world together, Cap._ _Please, call me Carol_ —extracts them, hauling them back into place. Across the universe, Thanos senses such a disturbance in his balanced world. It comes to a fight, because it always does. 

It takes Carol beating the ever-loving shit out of Thanos with the fierce orange energy she can harness in her palms to get the gauntlet. It takes Nebula seizing Thor’s weapon right out of his hands and bringing it down on her father’s head without cracking a smile, his body shuddering once, twice, then going still all together. It takes Tony shucking off the Iron Man armor, slipping his hand in the over-large gauntlet and shaking as the power of all six stones coursed through him: his eyes snapped open and he looked right to Steve with the same look he’d worn in the Siberian bunker— righteous, furious, and above all, pained.

When Tony snapped his fingers, it’s far less dramatic. For one, he does not back out of their corner of the universe through a portal. He was still for a very long moment before he dropped the gauntlet away from himself, as if it had burned him. Carol and Thor will eventually use their combined powers to have it destroyed, to ensure no one else can ever harness such a destructive entity. For now, though, Tony looked to Thor to return him to the the place he’d been where it all ended— Tony and Nebula to Titan, most of the rest to Wakanda,.

One by one, figures of lost friends rose from the earth and gasped life back into their lungs. Okoye tossed all sense of decorum aside to tackle T’Challa: Rhodes clasped Sam to him before Sam could properly sit up amongst the brush: Nat knelt before Wanda, gripping at her hands and blocking Vision’s body from view— there would be time for that, to grieve who could not be recovered. Rocket’s exclamation of joy could be heard from across the clearing, followed by a gruff _I am Groot_ and something like a paw kicking wood, likely punctuated by a grumbled, fond insult.

And because Bucky was the first to fall away, he was the last to materialize.

This time, Steve was ready to brace him in his arms when he appeared in the sunny glade. Steve had never thought that any memory could replace Bucky falling away on the train— all it took was a fresher death, more sudden and painful than the first, and he knew this was something he would relive in the quiet of the night when sleep evaded him. He had. It took them months to get here.

But Bucky staggered into Steve, grasping at his shoulders, gun falling away and landing at their feet. Their legs gave out this time, too, and Steve sat with his legs splayed open to properly hold Bucky to him.

“Steve?”

There was less panic in Bucky’s voice though bemusement was still present. Steve hadn’t changed, hadn’t even changed out of his uniform, but he carried every night spent without Bucky in his heart and mind and he did not hesitate to cup Buck’s face, to tenderly touch at his beloved features, drink them in with wide, hungry eyes.

 _I didn’t fail you. Not this time. Not again. I couldn’t survive if I let you down again._ He couldn’t speak though his shaking hands, his elevated breaths, seemed to say enough for him.

Bucky’s eyes momentarily blew open wide before he whispered: “How long was I gone?”

 _Three months, five days, seventeen hours and fuck all knows how many minutes._ “Too long,” Steve croaked. “Too long, Buck.”

They moved to tighten their embrace at the same time, resulting in a warm vice of limbs that Steve would happily lose his breath to. Bucky curled into him, forming a hot line between their bodies. He believed there was a chance he might never feel this again, that he would never hold Bucky close, to touch at his hair, to study his micro-expressions when he thought Bucky to not be paying attention. To hear his heartbeat, his quiet breathing in the small hours of the morning when Steve couldn’t sleep, but it was enough to know that Buck was resting peacefully beside him.

It was the half-formed thought of _to never kiss him again_ that had Steve lifting his face from Bucky’s neck, pulling back to slot their mouths together. He whimpered at the contact, at the taste of Bucky, at Bucky pressing closer and adjusting the angle of their lips so their noses weren’t squished together and their teeth weren’t clacking uncomfortably.

After living with his axis of self off-center for so, so long, the world righted itself. A string of words ran through his mind, just notes of sensations pitched forth— _close, whole, safe, whole, warm, mine_.

“I love you,” Steve whispered, trembling with the undeniable truth of it. They held each other’s gaze, cradled. “I love you so much.”

“I know,” Bucky murmured, petting at Steve’s beard. It had grown longer, less contained, in Bucky’s absence. “I love you, too. Feels like I’m gonna explode with it sometimes.”

“I didn’t say it enough.”

Softly, leaving no room for argument: “You didn’t have to.”

Even though there was no room, Steve wedged his way in and made space anyway. “Yes, I _did_ ,” he insisted, kissing Bucky again, harder, more insistent. He palmed at Bucky’s cheek, his fingertips brushing away the hair that fluttered into his face behind his ears. “I should have. It should have been my every other phrase. Would you like some coffee? I love you. Shuri’s got a new prototype for my suit and wants your opinion on the fit. I love you. I’m going to take out a Hydra cell and won’t be back for a week. I lov—”

Bucky dipped in, the tongue abruptly in Steve’s mouth quite the effective way of cutting off his rambling. “You—are—so— god—damn— dramatic—,” each word was punctuated with a kiss across Steve’s cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his forehead, rounding back as Bucky gave Steve’s lower lip a nip. “After everything you’ve done for me, there’s never been a question of whether or not you loved me. Never. Romanoff once said it’s like you have a neon sign over your head advertising it, even.”

Steve nuzzled Bucky’s cheek, eyes closing hard as a small smile softened his features. “Yeah, well. I never said I wasn’t obvious.”

A laugh, rumbling and sweet, burst out of Bucky’s chest. “You didn’t have to say that, either.”

“Oh,” came an exasperated voice, the loud crackling of tree limbs under metal boots. “Oh wow. You worked fast, Rogers." 

Bucky stilled in Steve’s arms, flicking his eyes from Tony to Steve and back again, landing on the former. His body suddenly coiled with tension, ready to seize the gun beside them and use it to fend off another attack if need be. Steve barely spared Tony a glance, thumbing away the furrow above Buck’s brow.

Out the corner of his mouth, Bucky said: “I’m guessing you two made up?”

“He brought you back— all of you.”

Bucky blinked. “Huh.”

“Mhm.”

“You could have said you were bumping uglies,” Tony said, still pressing. He was observing them in the way a zoologist might two circling animals behind a glass pane. Steve half expected him to whip out his phone to snap photos for later study. “Like, honestly you said you were mooning over Barnes, but _clearly_ you neglected to say you were already doing the horizontal mambo, but, uh, mazel tov?”

Steve would tell Bucky about the conversation he and Tony had once everything had settled, the one that pushed them in the direction of healing— how it hadn’t happened right away, how Tony’d been quietly avoiding him all the while being in close quarters nearly the entire time. It took Steve practically cornering Tony and snapping a quiet _spit it out, please before I have a stroke_ and Tony had retorted with _a man your age? That’s likely to happen anyway._ It all sort of collapsed from there. There was yelling. There was the quiet, tired rage that simmered in Steve like the dying coals in a hearth, but he kept stoking them, kept up his determination to bring Bucky, Sam, Wanda, T’Challa, and the rest back. For the first time arguably ever, they managed to speak to one another like adults rather than bickering children and their ability to work together brought them the safety of the universe.

At present, though, Steve simply said: “We accept large money transfers to our private accounts as congratulations.”

“And sheep care products.”

Tony blinked, as though this was the last thing he thought might come out of Bucky’s mouth. “I’m… It’s been a long day, so I might be losing it, but did you just say _sheep care_ products?”

“I have sheep,” Bucky shrugged. “I make my clothes out of their wool. Sometimes I’ll sit outside and have dinner with them.”

“They’re named Curly and Billie Holiday,” Steve added. “I named Curly.” 

Tony blinked again, looking vaguely on the verge of an aneurism. “Right,” he said, nodding. “Of course you did.” Then, suddenly realizing why Steve would leave the royal palace right after their meetings at night, why he’d never stick around and bunk in the guest quarters with the others, prompted: “That hut— that's yours?”

“Ours,” Bucky corrected, no bite to the words. Something passed over Bucky’s expression, as if just by touching Steve he could get a glimpse at the silent nights that Steve spent alone, curled on his side on Bucky’s half of their pallet. Those pale blue eyes, the prettiest color in the entire galaxy, searched Steve’s face with the softness of a physical caress, and Steve gave Bucky’s hip a firm squeeze, quirking up the corner of his mouth.

_I’m alright, now._

_You never should have been anything but okay,_ seemed to be Bucky’s silent response.

There was a booming shout of joy from the field, breaking through the bubble that had formed around them. He needed to see the others and communicated as much with a flick of his eyes over Bucky’s shoulder, where he could see Sam was being held tightly by Nat, who smiled when Sam booped her nose and nudged a tear from her cheek. Bucky rolled off him and up onto his feet, offering a hand down to help Steve stand. He adjusted his hold on Bucky’s fingers, linking their hands together as he fell in at Tony’s right.

Into the sunlight they moved when Steve remembered the sleepless nights that he knew Tony suffered, the dark bruises beneath his tired eyes. The guilt he carried in his chest alongside the arc reactor. “Is Peter…?”

Tony nodded across the glade, a small smile on his face as the kid accepted a pat on the shoulder by Dr. Strange, a ruffle of the hair from Thor, then seemed to hone in on Tony and waved, beaming. Something in Tony’s face softened, his shoulders slumping a few degrees. Steve bumped him with his elbow.

“Go hug your kid, Tony,” Steve murmured, finding a great of delight when Tony’s mouth dropped open like he was going to object, as if he could really bring himself to say _he’s not my kid_ after everything. “Come on, man. Look at him— go on.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, shooting Steve a quick look and even nodding, briefly, at Bucky.

“You joked, once, about how it would take the end of the world to get you both on speaking terms,” Bucky said, squeezing Steve’s hand gently. “Sad thing is, you were _right_.”

Before he could reply, there came a— “Hey!”

Sam broke away from where he’d been loitering beside Rhodes and strode forward, arms spread and Steve gave Bucky’s fingers a last squeeze before he surged in and wrapped Sam in a hug so tight it punched the breath right out of Sam’s lungs. He went to Wanda, next, stroking her hair gently: there had been nothing they could do for Vision and he hated that, hated that she would live with the guilt of not being able to save him, but he would do his damnedest to comfort her, to tell it wasn’t her fault until he was blue in the face if that was what it took.

Shuri had come down from the lab and she was holding her brother hostage in her arms, practically clinging to him— her mother had been lost, too, leaving her, for a time, to act as Queen of Wakanda. She did not have the opportunity to take the heart shaped herb, asserting that T’Challa was the rightful Black Panther, that she couldn’t step into his shoes even if she wanted to.

At the sight of them crossing the field, Shuri released T’Challa and darted to Bucky, whooping when he caught her, _oof_ ing softly on impact. The King followed far more sedately, though not without a smile, as he and Steve embraced briefly, then he lightly clapped T’Challa on the shoulder, accepted a squeeze of his bicep in return.

“Your sister really loves your people,” Steve said quietly. “She was a great leader, even though the circumstances were less than ideal.”

“I have no doubt of her ability to lead. My sister has always had a knack for excelling in whatever she puts her mind to.” T’Challa’s warm brown eyes twinkled, watching as Bucky settled Shuri on her feet, accepted her probing and beaming chatter. She’d come to mean a great deal to him. Bucky told him, once, that she reminded him of Rebecca, for how she was so small yet so brilliant, able to pack so much power and grace and wisdom in her thin body, so much love, for that matter. It had hurt her, as well, losing Bucky on top of having T’Challa fade away, too.

Rocket was surrounded by what must have been the rest of his teammates, though he couldn’t miss the shadowed look of grief in Star Lord’s face, how he couldn’t quite look at Nebula, how each smile of his was strained, as though barely holding back tears. Thor had said that Quill was involved with Thano’s daughter, that she’d been sacrificed for one of the stones. They had only been able to recover those who were wiped away with the gauntlet, not the ones who had died by other means: it was still a blow, one they’d be limping from for some time.

Natasha had moved closer, waiting her turn to greet them in relief, when her phone began to ring. She immediately accepted the call, knowing without glancing at the contact name who would be on the other line. She brought it to her ear, a rough laugh breaking out of her throat. Her arm lifted to curl around her belly, nodding as she closed her eyes and smiled. It was a short conversation, enough said to confirm what they’d all been hoping for. 

“Clint’s fine— his family’s fine. I could hear Nathaniel asking for lunch already in the background.”

As the day finally ripened into evening, they migrated to the royal palace. Wanda wanted to bury Vision and Tony told her he’d buy a plot wherever she wished: she opted for a place beside her brother in a cemetery in Upstate New York, falling mute and smiling only vaguely. He hugged her more than once, tried not to overwhelm her with his empathy and didn’t think he succeeded. Strange didn’t linger, opening a portal to return to his post in Manhattan where his friend, Wong, awaited him. And, for that matter, Peter’s aunt had blown his phone up with a multitude of frantic calls and texts, so Strange went ahead and took him back to Queens, though it looked like Tony wanted to object, to do nothing but keep the kid in his line of sight until his vision failed him. Steve knew he’d do the same to Bucky, in the coming months, that there would be another adjustment period to allow them to collect themselves.

Bucky never trailed more than a few feet away and neither did Steve, practically shadowing each other if not outright standing in one another’s embrace, hands linked to keep a physical connection between them. Thor, at the sight of them, deemed them a handsome couple and wished them years of copious love-making, ushering forth a deep blush out of Steve, the color in his face only deepening when Bucky snorted and Sam laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

But at the end of the night, it was just the two of them, still hand-in-hand. They returned to their hut and Steve was pleased to see that the child who had lost his brother to the dust had his companion miraculously returned, as well as their mother. Steve had been sure to bring him food from the palace and if he, himself, could not, Shuri or even Okoye ensured the boy did not go without sustenance. They stood by the water, watching as the city glowed with light, the most illuminated it had been since the day of immense grief swept over the world.

Bucky pressed a soft kiss to the underside of Steve’s jaw, another at the shell of his ear. Steve tipped his face just so to catch Bucky’s mouth with his, sinking into the familiar dance of tongues and fingertips and catching breaths. They practically sprinted to the hut to rid each other of their clothes, Bucky cursing Steve and all the clasps of his uniform, leaving Steve to grumble as Bucky had three more buckles to undo than he did.

Their hut had a roof that could be retracted, a smaller dome like the one shielding Wakanda arching over the empty space. Steve drew the short straw of momentarily withdrawing from Bucky’s arms, of climbing out of bed and nudging the reeds out of place so the stars could peer in on them. Just hours ago, half the celestial bodies overhead had been smothered out of existence and now the inky canvas was cluttered with diamond shards as it should be.

“C’mere,” Bucky murmured, plucking up the edge of the blanket and inviting Steve to latch onto Bucky’s front. He didn’t have to be told twice, burrowing his face in Bucky’s neck, his fingers tracing a path along the rungs of Bucky’s ribs. They lay naked and spent, content to let the quiet of the nocturnal animals and the insects that loitered near the water to be the only sounds in vicinity.  Every half minute or so, Bucky’s mouth would press a sweet kiss to the side of Steve’s head.

Steve would not sleep, not tonight, because the residual fear that Bucky might fade from him again was not something that could be shucked away like an article of dirty laundry. He was content enough to listen to Bucky’s heart under his ear, to feel the lift and lower of Bucky’s chest beneath his palm. Bucky wouldn’t rest, either, comforted by Steve’s solid presence in his arms just the same.

“Hey,” he murmured after hours of quiet.

Bucky hummed, lips shaping a half smile against Steve’s crown.

“Love you.”

The half-smile pressed closer, Bucky’s flesh thumb nudging aside Steve’s bangs to kiss his temple once, twice, three times. “Love you, too, sweetheart,” Bucky said, quiet but clear nonetheless. “More than the world can contain.”

This? This was true balance, the pair of them happily caught in the other’s orbit.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @ fypoedameron and on Twitter @buckyjerkbarnes
> 
> Edit: it's been pointed out to me that Bucky raises goats not sheep, but I'm keeping Curly and Billie Holiday the Sheep because... just let me have this one thing lmao ya'll I'm out here producing Stucky content when Marvel gave us some scraps to keep us fed until Avengers 4 lmao
> 
> I know next to nothing about Captain Marvel (though I'm hype as hell to see Brie Larson play her in 2019), but I have no doubt ole girl is gonna bust out the cut and just kick Thano's ass. I also feel like, given all the shit he's put Nebula through, she should be the one to deal the final blow. I'm SO not sorry about how tactile Steve/Buck are here and I'm even less apologetic about giving them sheep. I read somewhere that someone thought when T'Challa and Okoye first approached Buck with the arm, they saw sheep near Bucky's hut? And I just love the idea of Bucky nurturing something, of being allowed to be gentle after years and years of violence thrust upon him. I feel Tony has grown up a lot in the space between CW and IW, especially with Peter's influence, and that Steve's betrayal would be an old wound, something that pangs on occasion, but isn't so fresh that it cannot be directly addressed. Besides: we all know the Steve and Tony confrontation is going to be a Huge Ass Scene as that's basically a given. Chat with me in the comments about what you think might happen next!!!


End file.
